Scientists In Love
by princessmelia
Summary: My collection of stories for Fitzsimmons Week Summer Edition 2014. Day 1: Stargazing. Day 2: Unexpected. Day 3: Fantasy. Day 4: Stupidity. Day 5: Nightmare. Day 6: Stereotype. Day 7: Ribbon- On her wedding day, Simmons needs something borrowed and something blue.
1. Under the Same Night Sky

_**A/N-** Day 1 of Fitzsimmons Week Summer Edition 2014. Directly after the season 1 finale. Enjoy!_

* * *

Her ceiling had twelve and a half tiles, her wall had three chips in it, and there were eight S.H.I.E.L.D. logos visible from her bed. Simmons sighed as she finished counting the logos again, rolling over in bed to see how much time had passed. Big blue lights announced that it was 1:54 in the morning, and she felt no closer to sleeping than she had at 10:45. Finally admitting defeat to the insomnia that plagued her, she sat up in bed, slipping the shoes she wore around the Playground onto her feet, and left her room.

As Simmons walked towards the doors to the world outside, a chill settled over her arms. Realizing that her tank top and cotton shorts wouldn't do much for her in the night air, she detoured to the hangar. The BUS loomed before her in the darkness, but it was a comforting sight. For months the BUS had been home, and she almost took comfort from its presence. The ramp was lowered and she walked up it quickly, the cold pushing her forward. Their rooms and personal effects had been thankfully untouched. His room was easy to find, and she located his favorite cardigan immediately. Hurrying back out of the plane, she made her way out the doors and tugged her arms through the cardigan.

The base was under a small hill, and Simmons climbed to the top before sitting on the ground. The fresh air felt amazing against her skin and in her lungs. She'd found herself longing for more and more open spaces over the past few days. Ever since the Incident, really. The mere thought of it had her burying her face into the sleeve of the sweater, breathing in the scent of him. The scent of Fitz.

Shifting to her back, she thought back to their days at The Academy, pressing the sleeve against her nose to better recall the memories. After stressful tests or bad projects or crappy professors, they would grab a couple of beers, sneak onto the roof of his dorm, and sit it the lawn chairs they had stashed up there.

"There's Ursa major," Fitz would point out to her. "And Ursa minor."

And then Simmons would always cut in, pointing beneath those and saying, "And there are your stars, Leo."

He would groan and take a sip of his beer. "I should have never told you my first name." Simmons would laugh before the conversation would drift from stars and galaxies to Academy work and future plans.

That night, it was just Simmons under the stars. All her life, Jemma had lived somewhere with lights and a city nearby. Never had she realized how bright the stars could be without civilization drowning them out. Or how dark the sky around them could be.

"They're beautiful tonight, Fitz," she whispered into the sleeve. "And look, your stars are shining brighter than all the rest." A few tears slid out of the corners of her eyes. She blinked until the night sky was clear again. It was almost a new moon, and the darkness above her seemed to be tugging her off the face of the earth entirely. If she stared too intently, she would surely fall into it.

And maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. Maybe if she fell, all of the pain and worry she'd been feeling would slip away. Maybe she could fall back to those days on the roof and see her best friend smiling and laughing with her.

"I miss you," she said to the empty air. A breeze answered her admission, and she tugged the sweater tighter around herself. If she chose to, she could imagine Fitz lying beside her, his familiar presence flattening the grass, his arm extending into her view to point out the constellations his mother had taught him. It felt like home.

In the morning there would be a panic inside the Playground looking for Simmons. Coulson would find her curled up on the hill, warm because of the slightly too big sweater wrapped around her, and he would breathe a sigh of relief before reprimanding her for scaring them all to death.

But before she fell asleep, it was just Simmons and her Fitz, gazing up at the stars.

* * *

_Thoughts?_

**-princessmelia**


	2. Ruined Surprise

_**A/N-** Welcome to Day 2 everyone!_

_Summary- Simmons plans a surprise for Fitz- which promptly falls apart._

* * *

It was an ordinary day for Leopold Fitz. His alarm went off at the ungodly hour of 8 o'clock for classes, and he groaned as he rolled out of bed and got dressed. He met Simmons for breakfast in the cafeteria, and they walked across the quad together until they had to split to go to their different classes. His day passed by uneventfully through classes, lunch, and studying. He went and got snacks for him and Simmons like normal while they studied in his room, returning with a bag of gummy worms for her and a bag of pretzels for himself. They went out to fast food for dinner and then studied separately before going to bed.

A completely uneventful day.

Except it was his birthday.

But Fitz didn't like to make a big deal out of it. Growing up, he'd never had the friends to have a party. Plus his birthday was always around tax time, so money was sparse around the house. His mother made sure to have a cake and at least one present for him every year, but when he'd turned thirteen he insisted that she hold back. She deserved to keep the money for herself, not waste it on a present for him.

So Fitz went to bed perfectly content with the day he had had.

The next morning, however, no alarm blared to get him awake. It was a Thursday, so he didn't have class until 9:30, and he normally allowed himself time to sleep in as Simmons had class at 8:30, and she didn't force him to eat with her..

But for some reason, a sound roused him at 8 o'clock again.

"Oh, shoot," he heard a girl mutter.

"Hello?" he asked in a groggy voice, Scottish accent thick with sleep. He reached over and turned on his lamp to reveal Simmons standing in the middle of his room, holding the end of a banner in one hand while the other half hung on the wall. She was giving him a sheepish smile.

"Good morning."

"What are you doing?"

"Uh…" She turned and looked at the banner, where the word "Happy" could be read. "Nothing. Just measuring how long your wall is."

"That is the worst excuse I've ever heard."

"I know," she groaned. "I'm going to get better at lying, I swear."

"Yeah, of course you are." He sat up properly in bed and stared at the banner. The letters "B" and "I" were visible after "Happy". It wasn't difficult to piece together what the banner said. "Who told you?" he questioned. Simmons glanced down at the sign before dropping it and moving to his bed. He moved his legs so that she could sit on the edge.

"Your mum."

"My mum? When did you talk to her?"

"It was yesterday," Simmons explained. "You'd gone out to get snacks and she called so I answered your phone and she asked if we were doing anything fun for your birthday and I told her I didn't know when your birthday was so she told me it was yesterday and I decided we would celebrate today but it was supposed to be an unexpected surprise and now it's ruined," she finished the rant with a big breath.

He held back a laugh. Leave it to Simmons to think that a kind gesture would be ruined by the lack of surprise. "It's perfect, Jemma."

She smiled at him. "Really?"

He nodded his head in return. He'd never really considered celebrating his birthday before, but if he was going to, he wouldn't want to do it with anyone else but Simmons. "So what did you have planned for today?"

"First the banner-" she pointed to where it hung pathetically on his wall "-but it's a mess."

"No, I'll fix it after you go to class. What else?"

"Well, since it's Thursday I thought we would go off campus to your favorite restaurant, my treat."

Fitz's eyes went wide, and he bounced in excitement. "Golden Corral?"

"The all-you can eat American buffet," Simmons replied with a laugh and nod. "Perfect for the engineer that can out-eat any specialist."

"Not my fault I'm always hungry," he argued back. "And what else?"

"Let's see…" Simmons leaned back, her hands resting on the other side of his legs. "I thought we'd watch some telly, maybe a movie or two. Oh, which reminds me…." She got up off his bed, and Fitz moved so that he would be sitting next to her on the covers. "I bought you this." She held out the small bag to him with a flourish.

"When did you even have time to get it?" he asked as he took the bag, making the tissue paper crunch.

"During separate study time. Luckily the off-campus bookstore had what I was looking for." Sitting beside him, she gave him a small nudge and commanded, "Open it."

His fingers closed around what felt like a box, and he pulled it out with excitement. "A TARDIS?"

"Do you like it?" Her voice was a little higher than normal, and Fitz quickly pulled her in for a hug.

"I love it. Thank you, Jemma."

"No problem." She kissed him on the cheek before standing. "I need to get to class. Meet me at our bench around 11?"

"Yeah, sounds good." Fitz waited until she had nodded and left before bringing a hand up his cheek. Of all the things that had happened that morning, the kiss was the most unexpected.

Maybe birthdays were worth celebrating after all.

* * *

_Thoughts?_

**-princessmelia**


	3. Love and Magic Now and Forevermore

_**A/N-** I wrote this all today and am actually quite proud of it. Enjoy!_

_Summary- Medieval AU. When Simmons is sentenced to death as a user of magic, it's up to Leo to save her._

* * *

The stone made a small plop as it landed in the water. Leo sighed as he crouched beside the lake, tapping in more pebbles with his boot.

He'd told her not to. He didn't know how many times he'd told her not to.

"We're going to get caught," Fitz said with a shaky voice as he peered out the window of the small shack.

"Of course we will if you keep pulling back the curtain," Jemma huffed as she came over to shut it. "We've been doing this for a long time, Leo. We haven't been caught yet."

"It will happen someday." He resisted the urge to look outside again before he moved over to the pot in the middle of the room, which was smoking. "You know what they do to magic users. They burn them."

Jemma sighed as she added another ingredient. "We're saving people. We won't get caught, and we won't get burned. And if we do, we'll explain it's not magic. Just medicine work."

"They won't believe us." He began to pace, and Jemma quickly became distracted by it.

"I can't focus with you being so antsy. Go home, Leo. I'll meet up with you tomorrow."

Now, by the lake, Leo began to pull at his hair. He should've stayed with her. Because now Jemma was locked in a cell in the dungeons of the castle, accused and found guilty of witchcraft, and sentenced to burn at dawn the next morning.

"Oh, Jemma…" Pushing off the ground, he did a little jump as he stood, trying to put off the inevitable. He didn't want to. He'd never been able to live up to his namesake, the brave King Leopold. He wasn't brave. He wanted to do anything else but what had to be done. But of course he would do it. For her, he would do anything.

He was going to save Jemma.

Which meant he was probably going to die as well.

* * *

"Hold on," Mary said as Leo was explained what had happened. "You and Jemma have been practicing magic?"

"Shh," he hushed her, moving a hand to cover her mouth. "Do you want the rescue mission to be over before it's even started?" he hissed. Cold spit on his palm made him retract his hand.

MAry wiped her mouth before commenting, "You two always seemed to follow the laws."

Leo rolled his eyes. Leave it to their rebellious friend to fixate on the wrong issue. "Mary, this is about Jemma. Can you help?"

The grin and twinkle in her eye were the exact things Leo normally avoided before she got them all in trouble. "I may have a plan."

"A plan for what?" Mary's head whipped around, brown hair hitting Leo in the face as she turned to face her father, Phil, who had just come inside.

"Nothing," Leo answered.

Mary, however, spoke over him. "Jemma's been arrested and we're going to rescue her."

Phil's eyes narrowed at Leo who tried to straighten his shoulders under the scrutiny. Ashes covered Phil's face from work, and his hands were callused. Phil was a scary man, when he wanted to be. He held Leo's gaze for a few moments longer before they finally slid to Mary. "What can I do to help?"

"Do you still have that friend on the palace guards?" she asked.

Phil considered it before answering. "Grant? Yes, he works in the dungeons."

"Perfect." Mary smiled and turned to Leo. "Now, here's what we do."

Leo's mouth hung open as Mary completed explainingher plan. "We have to leave?"

"They'll keep searching for her. Leo"-she grabbed his arm- "they won't ever stop. If you want to be with her, and keep her alive, we have to go."

He thought about it. He could stay in his village, the same one he'd been in since he was born. He could keep apprenticing to be the town's blacksmith, find a nice girl, get married, have children. He could let Mary and Jemma run away by themselves. After all, the guards would only be after them if their planned work. But the future was incomplete without her. He wanted to marry Jemma, not some other village girl.

"I'm ready."

* * *

The hood of his cloak didn't feel like it covered enough of his face as Leo walked through the city streets. He'd always hated visiting the palace, but it was even worse at night. Too big and too criminal for Leo's liking. The letter from Phil was tucked into his belt, and he constantly put his hand against it to reassure himself it hadn't fallen out or been stolen. He had volunteered to visit Jemma alone, wanting to give father and daughter time to say good-byes.

His mother had understood when he told her that he would be leaving. She'd said that she had known for a long time that Jemma was where his heart was. Her only words of advice were to stay safe and stay together. He would miss her.

Two guards stood when Fitz approached the stairs to the dungeons. "No one's allowed down there."

"I… I'm looking for Grant."

"I'm Grant," the taller man answered, stepping forward to loom over Leo. "I don't know who you are."

"I'm a friend of Phil's. Here." Leo scrambled quickly to pull out the letter, handing it to Grant and hoping the guards didn't notice his shaking hand. The man looked doubtful, but as he read the note, his face set, and he nodded.

"Follow me."

Their steps echoed down the corridors as they made their way to her cell. Jemma was seated in the back corner, and the shadows hid her face from his view. Her arms hugged her knees, and he could see dirt and bruises smattered across them.

Grant opened the cell before telling them they only had a few moments and walking away.

"Leo?" His arms were full of her in a second, and he held her tightly to him.

"It's alright, Jemma. You're going to be alright." Pulling away from her, he could see the cuts and marks on her face, and he gently brushed over them with his thumb. "No one's going to do this to you anymore."

"Because I'll be dead tomorrow," she whispered, the tears turning her eyes bright. "You should go. I don't want you to meet the same fate."

"Neither of us is going to die tomorrow," Fitz replied, his voice wobbly but passionate. "We have a plan, but you need to be ready."

"We?"

"Mary and I. We're going to rescue you, but it's going to be close. And we'll have to run, right away. No going home."

Her face broke into a small grin, and her fingers were warm as they brushed against his cheeks. "Anywhere with you is home."

Turning his face, he pressed his lips to the palm of her hand. "I love you, Jemma."

"And I love you, Leo."

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, signaling their time was almost up. "Tomorrow, watch for me. I'm going to lead you out, alright? You're going to have to go all the way to the stake, but we'll save you from there. Trust me?"

"Always." She kissed his cheek, and Fitz took the opportunity to heal her worst bruise by a few whispered words. The skin healed, and he smiled.

"Love and magic now."

"And forevermore," she finished before Grant opened the cell to escort Leo back to the exit.

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" he asked Mary for the tenth time at the back of the crowd.

"Absolutely. Maybe I can even change my name when we leave. I've always hated Mary."

He chuckled and shook his head. Surveying the crowd once more, he turned to her and whispered, "You remember how to use the powder I gave you?"

She nodded. "I learn quickly, remember?"

"Of course." They nodded to each other before moving through the crowd. Leo moved into position near the stake, dagger hidden in his cloak. With a few mumbled words, he was able to prevent attention being drawn to himself as he pushed his way through the crowd.

Jemma was dragged outside soon after, and he had to catch his breath. The darkness of the dungeon had covered some of her injuries, but in daylight it was impossible to miss the fresh bruises and cuts. Anger burned in his chest. They were planning on killing her; did they really need to harm her ahead of time as well?

When Jemma's eyes turned towards his, he dipped his head under the cloak. She took a shuddering breath as they tied the ropes and returned the nod subtly enough.

In the middle of her official sentencing, Mary set their plan into motion.

"My sister witch!" she cried. "I will punish those who dare commit such an evil wrong!" The whole crowd turned to Mary, who was still in back, near the entrance. With a flourish, she threw the powder onto the crowd, causing sparks to fly over the courtyard.

Leo seized the opportunity and leapt onto the platform, cutting quickly at the ropes that held Jemma. His hands shook, but he still managed to cut through them all before someone noticed.

"Run," he whispered fiercely as he gathered her under the cloak, and, together, jumped off the platform.

"We won't-" she began, but he cut her off by throwing his own powder onto the ground, sending smoke into the air. Whispering quick words, he disrobed the cloak and threw it over her. The cloak changed colors and covered her face.

"Come on." He tugged her hand and led her through the crowd and confusion, sparks and smoke filling the courtyard.

They met with Mary in the forest nearby, horses ready to leave.

"I could only get two," she explained as she handed the reins to Leo.

"That's alright, we'll share." Putting Jemma on the front of the horse, he quickly mounted behind her, waiting for Mary beside them before taking off through the forest.

He could tell the moment Jemma relaxed, her shoulders dropping and her head leaning back onto his shoulder. "You were a hero." She spoke quietly, so that Mary couldn't hear.

"I…" Leo faltered, unsure of what to say. He wasn't a hero. He'd barely had the courage to do what needed to be done. "Mary came up with the plan."

"But you did the magic." She placed a hand on his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Maybe Leopold is a more fitting name than you believe it to be."

And as she settled against him, Leo began to believe that it was.

* * *

_Thoughts?_

**-princessmelia**


	4. And If I Fall

_**A/N-** Sorry for the tardiness. This was written late last night and was posted on tumblr, but not here._

_Summary- Fitz is not alright after the incident. "It wasn't graceful. It wasn't pretty. It broke Simmons' heart." Warning: Extremely angsty._

* * *

Simmons was on her way to visit him, like she always did in the afternoon. Fitz's recovery had been going well over the past several weeks, but she could tell he was getting more and more frustrated with things. It was all she could do to keep her own spirits up in the face of his negativity.

The crash that echoed down the hallway sent her feet sprinting to make it to his room.

"Fitz?"

He was sprawled on the ground, legs in a disarray and his right arm stretched out in front of him. His left arm, unfortunately was pinned under the weight of his chest.

"Oh, Fitz," she breathed in a shaky voice before moving to kneel beside him. He was panting heavily and his eyes were screwed shut. Lifting under his armpits, she helped him turn over onto his back, leaving Fitz to push up with his right arm into a sitting position. His left arm stayed cradled to his chest.

"Let me see," she commanded as she angled hrself to simultaneously sit beside him and face him directly.

"It's fine," he hissed, pulling his arm closer.

"It's not. Now, let me see it." The look he gave her was near murderous, but he let her inspect his arm anyway. "What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"Fitz…"

"I wanted to do something for myself, alright?" he snapped. "Just this once. The remote was on the table, and I wanted to get it. Myself. I'm a bloody genius, I should be able to get a remote." His face was turning red as he spoke, from both anger and embarrassment if Simmons could still read him correctly.

"It was stupid, Fitz," she chided. The arm wasn't broken again, and it didn't need to be reset, which was good. "You know the neurons that control your leg muscles aren't functioning. It's not a muscle thing you can work out. It will take-"

"I know all that," he practically barked. "I thought my upper body was strong enough, with all the therapy I've been through. And there was something to hold on to the whole way there."

"It was still stupid." The arm was yanked out of her grasp quickly. Looking up, she saw Fitz had twisted his torso, reaching up to the side of his bed in an attempt to get off the ground.

Scrambling upwards, she reached out her hands to help him. "Let me-""

"I can do it by myself."

"But if you just let me-"

"Stop it!" The words were shouted and harsh and with a heave, Fitz managed to get his upper half onto the bed. It wasn't graceful. It wasn't pretty. It broke Simmons' heart.

Flipping himself over, Fitz glared at her and sat up. "See? I'm fine."

She crossed her arms in annoyance. "I was only trying to help."

"Maybe I don't want your help. All you've done since I woke up is coddled me and treated me like I'm fragile. You want to help me? You should've let me die down there in that pod."

Simmons froze. She'd known he was angry, frustrated, upset. She knew the past few weeks hadn't been easy for him, she'd known that depression and suicidal thoughts could be side effects of his condition.

But knowing doesn't make things easier.

His face was set, eyes the same color of the water that nearly killed them both. And as she looked at the pain and anger in those eyes, she felt something in her breaking beyond repair.

"I'm sorry. Maybe I should have." The words were whispered, but maybe they were true. His life was miserable in his state, and it was her fault.

The tears fell without her consent and she scrubbed them away with her sleeve. She only stayed a few more seconds, staring as Fitz kept his angry glare before she turned and fled the room.

The sobs began as she walked faster and faster down the hallway.

"Simmons!" His voice carried, and it only spurred her forward.

"Jemma!" The cry made her sprint as she turned the corner and collapsed to the ground, hugging her knees to her chest.

She had only wanted to save him. But in doing so, had she done more harm than help? Was a life bound to a chair and others' mercies a life at all?

A while later, when her sobs were mostly gone, the wheelchair squeaked as it made it's way down the hallway. Simmons considered getting up and running. She considered it, but she didn't act.

"Found you." His voice was light, but his face was serious as he rolled around the corner. She wiped her eyes before looking up at him.

"How'd you know I'd still be here?"

Shrugging, he replied, "How do we ever know these things? According to Skye, it's our psychic link."

She nodded, and moved her gaze down to his legs, which were at eye level. "Do you really wish that?" Her voice was a breath, and she wondered if he could even hear it. Glancing up a bit, she could see his hands moving restlessly in his lap.

"Sometimes," he admitted quietly. "But not for long. It was a stupid thing for me to say."

"So you're not mad at me?"

She could hear his frustrated sigh and finally looked up at his face. It was a mix of exasperation and loathing. She inferred the first was for her and the latter for him.

"God, no, Jemma. Please, don't ever think I blame you."

She had her arms wrapped around his neck in a second, her body halfway in and halfway out of the chair as she hugged him tightly.

"I'm sorry, Jemma." He embraced her tightly back, pulling her almost entirely into the chair. "I shouldn't have said it."

"I shouldn't have said it either." She buried her face into his neck, reminding herself of how much she cared for him, and exactly why she had pulled him to the surface behind her.

She loved him.

And no stupid arguments would change that.

* * *

_Thoughts? _

**-princessmelia**


	5. Fractured

_**A/N- **I already have the second chapter of this written, so I'll continue it if people want me to. It would probably be about four or five chapters._

_Summary- Fitzsimmons are captured by Hydra, and not everything is as it seems._

* * *

"Back onto the floor, Agent Fitz." He obeyed, lying down on his stomach beside Simmons carefully. He was ashamed. Torture, pain, he could have stood up through all of that. But seeing her being tortured, hearing her screams, he couldn't stand it. So he'd given in.

Garrett walked into the room then, and Fitz glanced over at Jemma. She was bruised and battered, but still intact and awake- he planned to keep her that way.

"Agent Simmons," Garrett called out, "Operation Benign is complete."

"Oh, thank God!" She stood up and stretched her muscles out, letting out a groan of release in the process. "That floor was feeling awful hard after the torture you put me through."

Garrett shrugged and gave her a smile. "Part of the job."

Fitz had frozen on the floor. That… that wasn't right. She'd promised, so she couldn't be… "Jemma?" His voice was small.

"Oh, right." She turned to him and grimaced. "You're still here."

"You're…"

"Sound it out, Fitz," she mocked condescendingly. "Hy-dra."

"But you promised me!" he shouted while pounding his fist on the tile floor.

She shrugged. "I've made a lot of promises over the years."

He shook his head. "But the ones to _me_ were real. I know they were."

Garrett was looking bored. "I'll leave you two to it, if you don't mind Agent Simmons."

"Not at all, sir. I think I can handle Leopold all by myself." Garrett nodded and motioned for the rest of the men to follow him out of the room. And then it was just Fitzsimmons. Or, rather, Fitz and Simmons.

"How long?" he demanded from where he still laid on the floor. He didn't think his feet would support him if he tried to stand. His stomach was rebelling against the sight in front of him, and he was sure he would die. Either Hydra would kill him or he would be rescued- it didn't really matter. Because the girl in front of him would kill him either way.

"Since the Academy." Simmons shrugged her shoulders and picked up a gun from one of the counters. She barely even looked at him.

"The Academy? But we were friends. You were my first friend."

The laugh that followed his words punctured his heart. It was colder than his Jemma's laugh. "That's what made this so easy," she replied. "My mission was to find a way into your life. Friend, lover, whatever you needed me to be. Become a chameleon. And when I saw you it was too simple. You were _desperate_ for a friend, for anyone at all. Like child's play to slip right into your life."

"But you can't even lie," he tried to argue weakly.

"Perfect cover, right?" She put down the gun and picked up a different weapon to fiddle around with. "The scientist who can't even say that the sky is green without her voice shaking. No one saw it coming."

He couldn't stop the tears. It wasn't real, it couldn't be real. He was locked inside of his own hellish imaginings, that must be it. Or they were torturing him, and it was the punishment. Because it couldn't be reality. Jemma couldn't be standing in front of him, calm and cold and calculating. She didn't even smirk. In those moments when he'd let his mind wander to unthinkable things, he'd always pictured her evil and smirking. So it wasn't his imagination. It was real.

He leapt forward and lunged for her. They crashed into the counter behind her and sent instruments and tools crashing to the ground around them.

"You can't be, Jemma!" he shouted into her face. "I won't let it be true."

"But it is, Fitz." She stared at him steadily. His chest was heaving, but she was still.

"Then I'll kill you."

"Will you?" She raised her eyebrows. "Can you?" Her face changed. She looked up at him with warm brown eyes and a hesitant small smile. "But I love you, Fitz."

"Don't." He shook his head. She was mocking him. "Don't do that." He pulled her forward and then shoved her roughly backwards, ramming her into the counter again.

"Fitz, please. It will be okay." Her hands reached up and caressed his face. The gesture was familiar, and he closed his eyes at the comfort. If he imagined it, they were back in his room at The Academy, safe and sound. No Hydra, no traitors. "We'll be alright, I promise."

Promises. Her promises were lies. His fist flew and connected with her jaw.

"Fitz!" The cry was female, but not hers. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Fitz registered the sound of a door opening before Simmons shoved him away in defense.

"Fitz please, they changed your memories! It's me, it's Jemma. I'm not Hydra."

He went for her again but Trip's arms held him back. "She's lying!" he cried out. "Simmons is Hydra!"

But the team didn't listen to him. Skye went to comfort Simmons and Coulson stood in front of Fitz.

"She's Hydra, I swear." Coulson only shook his head sadly. Tears ran down Fitz's face, and even as he said the words he started to question his own sanity. He'd already suspected that it wasn't real. Across the room Simmons was back to normal, and Skye was hugging her close.

"I don't know what they did." Simmons was crying. "He came back talking about promises and Hydra and... We need to make him better."

He watched her tears, and it all seemed so real. But her harsh words had been real as well.

Which was the fake? The cold woman who mocked his pain or the young girl who cried for him?

As he watched Jemma Simmons, he realized he didn't know.

* * *

_Thoughts?_

**-princessmelia**


	6. A Toast

_**A/N-** Sorry for the lateness. Enjoy the end of the week!_

_Summary- When Simmons looks upset, Fitz decides to make tea for his new friend._

* * *

He put the kettle on the stove, shaking his head at how stupid this would be. He'd barely known her for a week, why would she accept tea from basically a complete stranger? He certainly wouldn't.

But maybe he would if it was from her.

It was weird. In Fitz's entire life, he had never felt a connection with someone like he had with Simmons. Is that what having a friend felt like? He wasn't sure. But he knew one thing, he would have never made tea (or any other beverage, for that matter) for anyone else in his life. Except for, of course, his mum. His shy nerves were starting to get the better of him, put Fitz pushed them aside as he kettle blew, moving it before he got dirty looks from other cadets passing by the dorm kitchenette.

The two communal mugs were less than spectacular, but he hoped she wouldn't ridicule him too badly for them. As he poured the hot tea carefully into the mugs, he thought about how sad she had looked in class that day. He wondered how no one else had even tried to comfort her throughout the day. She looked positively miserable to him.

Stuffing a few sugar packets into his pocket just in case she liked her tea sweeter like himself, he picked up the mugs and walked down the hall to her door, banging on it with his foot.

"Simmons?" The door opened, and the red around her eyes was apparent.

"Fitz?" Confusion flitted across her face. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh…" Well, he hadn't thought that far ahead. He couldn't bloody well tell her he could tell she had been upset (still was, apparently), girls didn't like that sort of stuff. Or at least, that's what he'd been told. But Simmons was standing in front of him, waiting for an answer. "Uh… Hoping you fall into the stereotype of an English person loving tea?"

Apparently that was a correct answer as Simmons let out a giggle and opened the door. "Come in, Fitz."

She sat on his bed while he set the mugs next to it on her table before sitting down in the chair. "I brought sugar. In case you wanted it sweet."

"Packet and a half, please." She held out her hand and he handed her two.

"You know, it's funny," he commented as she mixed the sugar in with the spoon he had grabbed.

"What?"

"I take my tea with one and a half sugar packets." She smiled at that, and Fitz felt a small glow in his chest.

"I believe we have more in common than either of us know, Fitz."

"Really?" She nodded and sipped the tea.

"I do. By the way, how did you know I would be needing tea?"

"Just a lucky guess, I suppose." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Hmm." She seemed to consider the answer before raising her mug in a toast. Fitz mimicked her otion. "Here's to more lucky guesses in the future." They clinked the mugs carefully before drinking to their newfound friendship.

* * *

_Thoughts?_

**-princessmelia**


	7. The Color of the Sky

_**A/N- **I hope you all enjoyed Fitzsimmons Week- Summer Edition. See you all in winter and next year!_

_Summary- On her wedding day, Simmons needs something borrowed and something blue._

* * *

"You have got to calm down," Skye admonished as Simmons kept pacing in front of the mirror. "Look outside. Look at the pretty English pastures."

"Actually, they're just British. We're not in England, just in the British Isles. Do I need to explain you the differences again?"

"Oh, God, no," Skye replied before getting up and moving to stand behind Simmons. "Just look in the mirror, okay? You look beautiful."

Simmons let out a small laugh as she and Skye stared at her reflection. The veil framed her face nicely and the sunlight that filtered through the windows was soft on her white dress. "This is really happening, isn't it?"

"Yes. Finally, I might add." Simmons giggled again.

"We waited a long time," she agreed.

"Far too long. For a couple of scientists in love, you two were sure pretty unobservant."

Skye's observation wasn't untrue. All those years at The Academy, at Sci-Ops, even the BUS, and they'd missed each other. The too long of looks, the slight quickening of heart beats, all brushed aside for the sake of safety and convenience.

Not anymore.

It was their wedding day, the day they'd finally be together forever. Legally speaking of course. Simmons liked to think their psychic link would have survived no matter what.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

"I'll get it," Skye offered. "You go hide, in case it's Fitz being a dork and forgetting he can't see you." But when Skye opened the big oak doors, Simmons only heard, "Oh, hey Trip. What are you doing here?"

Simmons stepped out of the corner of the room as Trip was coming through the door. "Just fulfilling my best man duties." Approaching Simmons, he held out a small wooden box. "Fitz said this was his mother's. Something borrowed and something blue."

She took the box, which was warm to the touch, and pried it gently open. Inside laid a silk ribbon that she pulled out gently.

"It's the color of the sky," Trip said.

Simmons nodded, but silently disagreed. It was the color of Fitz's eyes.

"Congrats again." He stooped to kiss her on the cheek. "You'll do great today."

Once Skye had closed the door behind Trip, she moved to examine the ribbon with Simmons. "So, where do you want to put it? I don't think there's any room in your hair."

"What about the wrist?"

Skye picked up her hand and the ribbon, examining both. "Yeah, I think that will work. I can do a weave pattern. It'll be symbolic and cute." As she tied the ribbon, she smiled. "This was a nice gift from Fitz's mom."

"If I recall, his father gave it to her. One of the only gifts he ever gave her." And it was tied around Simmons' wrist, proudly displaying her love.

"That's sweet. He really loves you."

Simmons nodded with a smile. "He does."

/

Later at the reception, Fitz's arm wrapped around her shoulder and he grabbed her hand with his own. Holding up them up, he inspected the ribbon on her wrist from over her shoulder.

"It's beautiful on you."

Turning her head, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I love it."

"Good. It's yours."

"I couldn't." Her eyes were already skimming for his mother in the crowd. "It means too much to your mum."

"She wants you to have it." Sheepishness crept into his voice. "Sorry if it breaks the something borrowed policy."

"No, that's alright. It's perfect." She kissed him properly on the lips, savoring the fact that they were tied together legally, physically, and psychically, forever and ever.

* * *

_Thoughts?_

**-princessmelia**


End file.
